To Think of Killing People & Misogyny

It is an ordinary thought, is it not? Just think of how many less assholes there would be in society if one was freely able to kill them. Then again, we could wipe out all of humanity, thinking of all the assholes that need to be shot.
Maybe I'm not in the best mood today. But who gives a shit? More importantly, who gives a shit other than me? For this is my blog, no one else's, so everyone who doesn't like it can go fuck themselves.
Maybe I should be called an asshole for just saying that. Undoubtedly, the people I think are assholes probably think I am one myself. And so, let the killing begin, along with the destruction of our entire species!
(You notice I do not use the word bitch when referring to people. That is because I find the word incredibly offensive—more so because of the internet's recent use—misuse?—of it.)

But, seriously. My thoughts waver to misogyny. Again, caffiene high. I won't explain myself further.
Anyway, I want to talk to you about a certain culture—one that I have intimate experience with (that is to say, I used to be a part of it), in which misogyny is so inbred that everyone acknowledges it as a given. As if women are evil, and should be the lesser gender. And no one in that culture is more misogynistic than the women themselves. I have seen women who are best friends constantly and subtly put each other down whenever speaking to one another. Not to mention gossip behind their backs, all the while being completely sweet to the face. In such a culture, women who are friends (and I use the word lightly) actually follow more the role of many followers and a single leader. There is one leader in such a circle of friends. The one that everyone follows, showers with complements, try to emulate in every single way, and insult when she is not there.
In the past, I've had experience with both types of roles. First, I was (naturally) a follower. And like most followers, I was quite annoying. However, even then, I could never understand why we always did what she wanted to do. Why we always followed her wherever she went, no matter the fact that it was where I didn't want to go (namely, outside). You can tell, even then, I was starting to branch off. I was always quite the loner.
Afterwards, unfortunately, I became the leader. It was unwillingly done, I assure you, as the thought of those followers still annoy me to this day. So much so that I started avoiding them whenever I could (though a school is never large enough when you wish to avoid people). They never left me alone, they always copied what I did, and they always had a way of subtly putting me down. You can understand why I strived to avoid them.
However, I seem to have digressed. What I mean to say is, in such a culture, women are never equals to one another. All of them have been taught by society to be defined by men, and to be better than one another (in their pursuit of men). That in turn leads to a certain sort of negative competitive personality in which they view each other as obstacles that need to be taken down.
You have to wonder at the brilliance of such a society. Women cannot protest their rights, because they themselves are the largest perpetrators of misogyny.
I even see evidence of this in Western culture, when there are only two women in a certain media (a novel, a TV show, or a movie), and they are rivals for a certain man's affection. One is always portrayed as "the bitch" (mostly in high school dramas), while the other is the modest, virginal, cherry blossom (as if a woman can only be one of the two). And they hate each other.
Or the two are best friends, but they are enemies when it comes to the man of their affections (most notably, Archie Comics). And then they hate each other.
Again, I've rarely ever seen women just be friends in media. Without a man getting in the way.

Well, the point of that long and boring rant was that I'm getting really sick of romance novels.
Yes, that was what I was leading up to.
It's just that... I can never find a book where there isn't this "evil bitch" that's out to get her man, or where the woman is always this pathetic creature that strives to always be modest and virginal, or where the woman is this confident, ass-kicking girl in the beginning, but turns into this pathetic understanding creature that forgives the male anything, regardless of what he's done (because she's the pure and innocent one in the relationship), or where the only talks with the only other woman in the novel is about the man.
Maybe I'm bitter. Maybe I should "branch out." Whatever.

Sometimes, I ackowledge to myself that there's a reason I don't wish to take Gender Studies. As the mere thought of women's rights make me angry, you can imagine how I'd feel in that class.
And I don't like to be angry. It's a terrible emotion, one that brings out a very rude and sarcastic (and close-minded) version of myself.
I can just see myself say, "Fuck you and your opinions! I'm right and everyone should listen to me!" in just that very juvenile way when arguing with someone about something I am passionate about.

And, God, I'm feeling very bitter and angry today.
I think I'll be misogynistic and blame it on PMS.

Everyday I'm Shovelin'

Thought I'd start off with this picture as to how weather was today:

Yeah, it was crazy today. We had a huge blizzard, and all the universities (including mine!) were shut down for today. I guess it would've mattered more had I shown up for the other past two days...

When I stepped outside, the snow was literally up to mid-thigh. The snow plows worked hard to get the roads cleared as much as possible—priority was given to the main roads, of course. Here's another image to show you what it was like today: (Gosh, I'm chock-full of images today, aren't I?)

Apparently there were armies of them, lol. I wasn't awake when they started doing their work. Speaking of work, my supervisor called to say that my shift had been cancelled because the store was completely dead due to the weather. Well, at least someone got paid that day.

You know, ever since global warming, Canadian weather has been weird as fuck. Today, it's snowing like crazy and we have a huge snowstorm. But apparently on Monday, it's going to be 6°C, which is really warm!

In December, it rained all month. It didn't snow at all, until the day after Christmas! Then, it snowed like crazy, then it rained, then it was so hot that people wore spring jackets, then it snowed like crazy again... see where I'm going here??

You know, I used to remember a time when weather was consistent. Sure, it was always cold, but you got used to it, and you knew what to expect. I remember one time when it rained like crazy, and then the next day it was so cold that the entire thing had iced over. Everything was covered in ice—grass, roads, pavement—and, a few hours later, salt was everywhere (much to the dismay of all the kids playing on the ice).

Nowadays, I always carry my umbrella, wear my snow boots, and keep a light jacket handy, in case it gets too warm. Now tell me if that's not fucked up. During last year's march break, it was freezing, then it was raining, then it was so hot people were wearing shorts, and then it snowed.

And that's Canadian weather. No one even listens to the weather forecasters anymore, since it's always completely random.

de Français

Salut, tout le monde! Aujourd'hui, je vais écrire en français. Je veux découvrir si je peux, mais, déjà, il est très difficile. Je n'ai pas pris cette classe en... eh bien, je l'ai pris en mon dixième année. Donc maintenant, c'est quatre années. Après mes essais cette semaine, je vais utiliser Rosetta Stone pour améliorer mon français. J'espère que ça marchera. o.0 Bien que je devrais se concentrer sur mes devoirs... meh. J'ai des temps. Je veux vraiment apprendre de français. Je veux sera bilingue. Puis, je serai impressionnant! :D
Maintenant, je dois sortir. Je ne peux pas écrire plus. Je ne sais de beaucoup. Au revoir!

Rant About a Book

Okay, so instead of studying like a good little student for my physics and calculus test this friday, I decided to read some contemporary romance (mostly because I've already read every urban fantasy book imaginable). Then I realized I had read Lisa Kleypas so much that I had actually memorized passages. So it was time to go on the internet and search for recommendations of authors like Lisa Kleypas.
One author that kept coming up was Susan Elizabeth Philips. Ugh. All I can say, now that I've tried reading one of her novels, is that I wish I could somehow transport inside the internet and STRANGLE the people who said she was ANYTHING like Lisa Kleypas.
So, deciding to read one of her books, I picked up a novel about this heroine who's a Physics Ph. D, and professor at Burberry who wanted to get a baby of her own (yeah, I know—the smart girl stereotype of wanting to be a housewife—as if society can't accept the fact that an intelligent woman will want to be independent), so she tricks a football player into getting her pregnant. Then he finds out, goes all ballistic about "his child being born a bastard" (excuse me, Ms. Philips, do you know what century this is??) so he demands they get married despite them hating each other and being miserable for... well basically until the last ten pages when they "magically" fall in love and live happily ever after. Yeah, I know the plot is really stupid, but it could have been at least a little bit believable. Also, before that, he threatens to sue her ass for full custody unless she marries him—so she, being the strong and smart physics professor... agrees meekly? Cue rant.
What.... I just can't... HOW does this make sense?? If it had been me writing the story, I would have made the heroine say, "Sure, try to sue my ass for full custody. We'll see how far you get. I'm the mother of this child. Every jury in this country will go on my side—plus I have a steady career, while you're just an old football player who won't last that much longer, the way you're aging." Instead, she acts scared and trapped, as if she's some fifth century woman, and basically agrees with everything he says, "because she was wrong in tricking him in the first place."
You know, I hate books like these, where the woman always has to be the humble, modest, and the truthful person in the relationship (oh, and let's not forget being completely virginal—or just having slept with one other person). I mean, why can't she be the bitch, for once?
Nooo, because it's the bitch who always gets her comeuppance, while the chauvinistic bastard can just keep carrying on with the 20-year-olds, and he'll just sound like he "needs someone permanent in his life."
Oh, and, by the way, I am twenty years old (well, very nearly) and the thought of having sex with some guy older than 30 physically disgusts me. But, for some reason, the old assholes don't seem to understand that, continually trying to hit on me in clubs. Like, honestly, what the fuck makes you think I'd do anything with you?? I feel like playing the song "Dinosaur" by Kesha whenever one comes nearby.
I mean, I can take someone ten years older than me. But no more. My night school teacher was really hot, and he was 29—which was ten years older than me, at the time (although most of my classmates thought he was around 26—guess I'm just attracted to younger-looking guys). Okay, I'm going off-topic here. Back to the point.
Yeah. So the male protagonist keeps going on about how she's "so old" (when he thinks she's twenty-eight—oh, and, by the way, he's 36). Then gets even angrier when he finds out she's actually 34.
Seriously?? Like, seriously?? He talks about how he likes women "when they're still fresh." Just so you know how much of a douchebag the male character is. And Ms. Philips wrote him that way!
I mean, I know Lisa Kleypas writes chauvinistic heroes as well, but they're just chauvinistic in the way that they need all the control, and they like taking care of the heroine. They don't complain about the age, intelligence, whatever, about the character. In fact, they encourage those characteristics. And since romance novels are just basically porn for female readers, I don't mind the male having the control. Okay, well, most of the time. No, some of the time. Well, if I trust them enough to that point (which might take around a decade of dating). But, whatever, that's my own trust issues. The point is, I can't EVER believe Susan Elizabeth Philips was compared to Lisa Kleypas (especially in her contemporary writings—in which the male characters are far less chauvinistic than in her historicals).
So, yeah. I feel a lot better now.
All that's left is to burn that half-rate excuse of a romance book.

When You Get Caught Talking to Yourself

... Yeah. Not fun when people think you may just be a little out of it. Then again, I guess I am a bit. o.0

But, seriously. Who doesn't do it? Well anyone at least marginally sane, that is. Sometimes, I just feel like there's two people inside my head, and me:

1. The one that I rarely ever listen to—the one who always tells me to sleep on time (yeah, right—who needs sleep, anyway?) and do my homework on time, and learn how to cook so I don't waste like $300 a month (and that's on the low side) on ordering out food.
2. And the one that I always listen to (despite my better judgement—see #1 for my better judgement)—the one that tells me to read and watch TV and surf the internet when I have a crapload of work due the next day, or even the next hour.

But my responsibilities are growing ever larger (much to my dissatisfaction), to the point that I can't ignore them as completely as I could have before. Take work, for example.

Work, as in a job that provides money, is something that I literally can't take for granted. I don't know why—maybe it's the fact that, when I was growing up, money was always an issue, and independence something difficult to find without the sufficient financial support. Whenever I go to work, though I know it's minimum wage and something that's not going to last forever—something that I shouldn't want to last forever, if I'm to aim my sights higher, I work harder than I do in any other area of my life. I'm always on time, I always do as many of my required tasks as I can, and, most of all, I concentrate and work hard on doing the best that I can. Maybe it's because it's minimum wage, and therefore I know I'm replaceable—easily and affordably.

Before I ever had a part-time job, I was incredibly lazy. In fact, there were weeks on end where I would do nothing except watch TV or read.

But school... that's something that's becoming somewhat of an issue. For years, I've had a really bad habit of not doing my work until the very last second, and it's gotten progressively worse. Now that there's the issue of the government loan hanging on my head if I don't do well, the pressure is increasing.

Before, I could just fuck off homework and do marginally well, or barely pass. And even if I didn't, well, I just told myself that there'd always be the next time.

I can't do that anymore. If I fail a course, that's around $800 per semester that I'm wasting. In fact, I already failed a course, and now I'm going to have to spend another $800 to take it in the summer. For someone who's saving up for braces (I mean, I'm 19 now—I really need to get them soon), that's a huge blow.
Not to mention that if I fail too many courses, or do far too badly, I'll get kicked out of university, and have to pay off the rest of my student loan—with nothing to show for it.

I really can't fail anymore. But now I have work on top of school, and somehow I need to balance that, along with improving my bad habits from the past couple years of complete laziness (or depression, depending on your point of view)—as well as starting to work out again, because I've gotten really fat ever since losing my bike in that accident.

The voice that keeps telling me to do better is growing progressively louder—to the point that I get caught yelling at myself, and muttering what needs to be done. Thankfully, that's only when I drink too much caffeine.

As you can tell from me typing this up at 1am in the morning, I may have had too much caffeine today. Although my customers didn't mind. They were far more talkative than usual—then again, so was I. But I am surprised they understood half of what I was saying, as I was talking too fast for even me to understand myself.

Sometimes, I feel I'm more productive when I'm yelling at myself and on a huge caffeine high. I really don't know why.

Happy Boxing Day and all that crap

So a lot has happened that I really don't feel like getting into... So I'll just summarize the last couple months in just a few short sentences that'll leave you with invisible question marks around your head. Yeah.

Okay, so in August (specifically like the 29th or the 30th) I got a letter of admission from York. I know, late, right? I guess they just needed more failures to suck money from. And that changed my plans for work and... basically everything. I told my manager that I didn't have full availability anymore, and, as a result, he couldn't hire me—but he recommended me to another manager who did, but was farther away. So, long story short, I'm now one in 75 people studying engineering as a major in York University, while having a part-time job as a cashier at Shoppers.

And now onto the main rant of the day.

I hate being a cashier. I really do.
I was so much better as a merchandiser. I could stock and fill shelves, direct customers to certain items, put labels on products, and do plan-o-grams like a pro.
I suck as a cashier. Let me just say this once: I'm not good at multi-tasking. But, in Shoppers, traditionally, a merchandiser is a guy's job, and a cashier is a girl's job. Seriously. In all the months I've worked there, I've never seen a single girl merchandiser. They're all guys. I can understand, though. It's not sexist; it's just pragmatic. Merchandisers have to lift really heavy stuff. Like really heavy stuff. I've seen guy cashiers, though. So I guess I can't accuse Shoppers of sexism. It's just really unfair, though.
I know, from years of personal experience, I'm better at doing traditional guy stuff than girl stuff. I mean, you wouldn't know to look it. I look like your typical girl, that isn't tomboy-ish or anything—I don't like sports, I don't work out, and I wear makeup on a regular basis. Although I do have to get my sister's approval of my outfit before I walk out the door. But that's mainly because my fashion style is a bit... out there. I'm not very colour-coordinated.
But ask me to drill curtain rods for you above the kitchen window or make that new shelf you just bought, and I can do it in a flash. Ask me to make you even a piece of toast... and I'll probably burn it. I do try to cook. It's not that I'm lazy or anything. Okay, well yeah, I'm really lazy. But I do try when I get really hungry. And I can't count the number of times the smoke alarm went off because I forgot to take the bread out of the toaster. Sigh. My brother can cook better than me. I can never understand how people can tell when something's cooked! I mean, the other day, my sister declared some meatballs cooked and others not—but they all looked exactly the same!
However, most of the handy-work around my home has been done by me. I was the one who drilled the curtain rods for my room, my sister's room, my mom's room, the sitting room, and the kitchen. I was the one who installed the blinds for the kitchen, and I was the one who built both of my sister's shelves. I was the one who installed both the towel holder for the basement and the toilet paper holder for the bathroom. I was the one who rebuilt both my sister's and my mom's bed frames (after we collapsed them when moving), helped my brother with his, and built the computer desk (not to mention my own desk, and my sister's desk). I was the one who set up and lubed the treadmill, and built the ottoman for the sitting room.
Sadly, my brother has a reputation for not doing shit that doesn't benefit him directly, and disappearing when work needs to be done. Although he did paint the whole house, and built the walls for his basement room... but, again, that was for himself.
So... where was I? Oh, yeah. The thing with being a cashier at Shoppers is that you have to be good at multi-tasking, which is, traditionally, a girl's role, but one that I suck at tremendously. I'm constantly making mistakes. But there's so much you have to keep track of! You have to know the codes for different coupons (retailer's or the store's, free or a discount), how to put in lottery codes (wins for offline or online, or purchases), when it's not busy, you have to fill the candies at the front and do facing, and, most importantly, you have to count money. Which I suck at, because I have to keep track of everything else, and then I miscount, and then I'm either short or over on my till, which I don't count until the end of the day, which just builds up to being really stressful... and I just do badly at it.
I'm always either short or over for my till. It's never perfect. In fact, my manager even talked to me about it.

God, I hate minimum wage jobs, and all the multi-tasking bullshit you have to do for it. All I know for certain is, this job's not going to last long, the way it's going. And it'll be my third job that I've failed at in a year. I wish I could think that it's other people—that I just need to find my niche, but I just feel like a failure right now.
All I know is, in the future, I have to avoid cashier jobs like crazy, even though it's the only thing I have a lot of experience in. I mean, a job's a job, and I know, if I get hired anywhere else, it'll likely be for a cashier position, but I have to get out of this destructive cycle.
And I'm dreading Boxing Day, because I'll have to work, and I know my manager's going to want to talk to me again because I was short ten dollars last time.
I just wish they'd just fire me already, so I can get this anxious feeling over with.

Sales and Employee Loyalty

Hello again. Back so soon? I'm flattered.

Ugh. I'm so dead. I don't know why I'm posting this at friggin midnight, but I dunno. I just felt like it.

Anyway, I confirmed that my summer job placement with the government ends on Tuesday. Everyone gets six weeks from the date they started, and, since I started on the Tuesday, July 2nd, I finish on Tuesday, August 14th. It really sucks. I'll definitely miss the hours. Straight 35 hours a week, get paid $600 every fortnight? It was awesome. But not only that. It was also the people that I'll miss. My placement supervisors and the other placement kids working at the same Shoppers as me. We're having a graduation ceremony on the 22nd. I forgot where and when. I think I'll have to call them back to get the details.

So... yeah. I told my manager at Shoppers, so I hope I get hired after that. Anyway, I'm probably going to have to go looking for a second job anyway, since my manager's only looking for a part-time evenings cashier.

Okay, so I'm thinking of getting a bike. Do you think that's a good idea? I really miss biking. I lost my last one of five years through a biking accident last year. I left it locked near the hospital while I took the bus home, but when I came back to get it the next day, it wasn't there. But I'm definitely not as fit as I used to be. But what I'm thinking is that, since the only place I need to go to is work, which is only 15 minutes on the bus, maybe it'll take me 45 minutes biking? I'll get a good workout everyday I work, and I'll save money on not having to buy a bus pass, save the winter season. But I'll probably be really tired. And sweating off your makeup before you start work isn't really a good idea. I dunno. Maybe I'll just start with taking my bike on the bus to work, and then biking back. Work my way slowly into it. I don't want to be so tired that I start making mistakes, especially at cash, which would be really bad (provided I get hired in the first place).

So a lot has gone on this year that I (sadly) failed to mention.

A lot of my friends from high school had a falling out with each other. I can say that I've been one of them. It wasn't really anything major, more like a not-talking-to-each-other-in-forever kind of falling out. I guess it was bound to happen, but I keep thinking of my naive past high school self, who thought that we'd stay friends forever (or at least for a long time). Well, I guess we're still friends, but just not in the same way. We're just not that close anymore, and I guess that was bound to happen, without school there as a way for us to conveniently hang out with each other everyday.

Oh, and I got paid yesterday! Yes, I finally got to pay off most of my credit card! Only like $200 is left. Now if only it would stay that way... Maybe I'll convince my sister to hide it somewhere so that it never sees the light of day again. Or rather, so that it's never found its way back into my hands again. I really don't know how I spent my entire limit within the span of a mere two months. Well, there was the two bus passes (cause I didn't get another job until June), my cell phone bill, my eating out all the time, especially restaurants, then those clothes that were on sale... But really, it wasn't all that much! I really can't believe it came up to that much. Maybe it was the interest. Yes, I'll blame it on the interest...

So to avoid some difficulty staying back another year with my family, I have to enroll in full-time school courses as soon as possible. Full-time is three courses or more, so all I need is three online independent study courses. I'm thinking of taking physics again. It's just that I'm not that good at it to begin with, and not doing it for an entire year will probably seriously keep me behind when I go back to university. I really don't like the thought of it, but I think I need the practice. So... I dunno. I don't want to, but I think I'll have to. Sigh.

And to top it all off, I haven't been reading much this year. Well, actually, I've been re-reading a lot. I think I've even memorized passages from some of my favourite books. But I miss the thrill of reading something new. I mean, I still get it sometimes, from when my favourite authors release new books, but, I really don't get it much anymore. Even with my favourite authors, I know their formula, and what usually happens in their books, so the full excitement for not knowing what's going to happen isn't really there. I mean, I've tried new books from my favourite genre, Urban Fantasy, but it just ends up too predictable. I've read all the good authors in that genre, but I just can't seem to move on. I think I need to pick up a really good book from a different genre, that'll get me interested in that genre. But I hate reading outside my genre. Sigh. I dunno. I really need to try something new.

And, finally, onto the topic of this post, lol. I've noticed, working at Shoppers, how I start to buy stuff on sale from there that I think is cheap simply because of the original price that the store usually has for it. I remember I used to check Walmart, Metro, and a lot of other stores before I finally decided which had the cheapest thing that I needed. But now, I just shop at Shoppers, because I work there. Does that make sense? I guess a lot of employees do that. I know my friend, when she worked in a clothing store, she used to buy most of her outfits from there. I think it's mostly because I know what's on sale and how much of a good price that is, compared to other places at the moment. So, yeah. It's weird, but I love telling people about the sales where I work, and I love buying stuff on sale there. So I guess employee loyalty is usually a side-effect of working in retail. Weird, but I guess it makes sense. Just wanted to put that out there. I know you guys are like, "Why is she telling me this?" but I just wanted to mention it. :)

So... yup. That's about it for now. See ya again soon. :D

Variety is the Spice of Life

Yay, double post! Aren't you happy? I just feel so talkative today and optimistic. It's a good day, you hear? A good day. (Some may be confused by my vague reference to A Bit of Fry and Laurie—love that show).

So, this post will touch on various things that have been happening for the past month or so, because I know everyone wants to hear why I've been so dead in the past couple of months.

One thing I wanted to talk about was kissing. Yes, kissing. Despite still being a virgin—panic attack, oh god, I'm almost twenty and still a frickin virgin oh god oh god oh god—I've kissed a lot of guys... and some girls. In spite of the ads, I'd like to say that it's really nothing to talk about. I don't really like it much... at all, actually. It's just so disgustingly moist, you know? I don't feel anything except... wetness. At first, I thought maybe I was playing for the other team, but that can't be right if I still don't feel anything, and I check out more guys than girls. In fact, when I check out a girl, it's mostly at her clothes, and jewellery. (Speaking of which, this girl on the bus had this really nice steam-punkish kinda belt. I wanted to ask her where she got it from, but she got off the bus too soon. I wonder if I go downtown, a shop might be selling something like it?) So... I really don't think I'm gay. But, when I kiss guys too, I still don't feel anything. I guess I just don't like kissing. In fact, it's kind of disgusting and... wet.

I hope I still don't feel the same way in a year, or I'm probably going to be a virgin forever. And it won't be for lack of trying, sadly.

Maybe I'm going about it the wrong way. Maybe picking up guys at 2am in nightclubs isn't the best way to do it? Maybe I need an emotional connection and all that bullshit? But that's just too much work, not too mention too much commitment, and I already have trouble balancing work, school, and my friends. I'm sorry, but a guy just isn't that important.

I'm really disappointed. I guess a part of me believed all those ads about sex and those romance novels and shit. Why can't I just be a guy? Then it wouldn't matter who I was doing it with—I'd still enjoy it. But nooo, I feel nothing, because, as a girl, I need more than that. Sigh. Fml.

And now onto life in general. So... it seems that I'm not going to university this year... because of one percent. One percent, and I couldn't get in. So now I need to improve my marks even more this year.

Man, I really wanted to go. And not really because of learning something new. More because of the guys. I mean, unless I go to a nightclub at 2am in the morning, there really is no place for me to meet guys, and those guys would probably be perverts looking for sex, no doubt. At uni, I would at least meet some normal guys that I could hook up with. Now I know why people go online. But I'm not that desperate yet.

So I guess I'll be spending another year updating marks and working. And maybe saving up to get braces and a laptop before going to university and being in more debt than ever. So I guess it's not all that bad.

Oh, did I forget to say, I'm working at Shoppers!! I love it there. My assistant managers are super-nice and everyone is just so nice and happy, and I really like it there. I got it through being placed from a government employment agency. But it ends in about a week or so (since it's only for the summer), so I'm doing my hardest to get hired directly after that. I'm coming in on my days off to get more cashier training, and my manager says that once I know everything, I'll get hired for sure, since I already know most stuff. It's awesome! And there's room for advancement and everything! And it's only a fifteen minute bus drive away from my home. I could probably walk there and get there in an hour. It'll be my first non-temporary job (the first one doesn't count since I was planning on quitting once I found something better). I really like it there, and I really hope I get hired.

Fingers crossed and everything.

How's Life?

So seriously, how's it been? I know I haven't posted in a while, but at least I keep up every couple of months (*cough* JADE).

Anyway, life's been good.

You know, the one thing I've learned through this year is that you never realize how much something is dragging you down until you let go of it. I mean, there are moments when you're doing that "something", or with that "someone" that's dragging you down and you think about just giving up and letting go, but fear holds you back. Fear of the unknown and of the future without that thing/person.

In my case, it was my previous job. It was literally a shitty job that I wouldn't foist on my worst enemy. For one thing, it was really far. I literally spent a total of four hours travel time a day for it. And another thing, it was only me there and my manager/cook a.k.a. the biggest bitch in existence.
So I had to do the job of literally four people—the server, cashier, waitress, and kitchen help/dishwasher. And you know what? The first three jobs weren't so bad, but it was the fact that I also had to help her with her work. I know this is very biased, but in my opinion, she just wasn't a good manager. I remember one time, when I was helping her slice tomatoes, she told me it was too thick, I was giving the customer too much, and it would come out of my paycheck. Then, when I started cutting them thinner, she literally took them, asked me what the hell was this, that it was too thin and "would I buy that?" And then she threw them in the trash. There really was no pleasing her. I had to put up with so many derogatory statements, her superiority complex, her snarky comments about the owner and customers, her far-too-personal questions about my private life, and... it was just too much, especially for minimum wage. There is a saying, that I now know has a huge kernel of truth behind it: "Minimum wage requires minimum work." It's so true. I mean, why do more than you need to, when there's no chance of advancement or any sort of benefit at all to yourself?

The sad fact is, managers like these are common, especially in low-end places such as fast-food restaurants, or privately owned stores/restaurants where there's only like two or three people working there like slaves because they're not making enough business to hire more people.

You know, people say that if you love doing something, you should love doing it no matter what. But I think that's pure bullshit. Our likes and dislikes are greatly influenced by the people around us, and, if we dislike someone, chances are, we'll dislike the thing we usually do around them. Working in the food industry just made me hate cooking and working with food, especially because of the bad experience I had with it. But I was afraid to let go of that job, because looking for a job is a job in and of itself, besides no pay for at least a couple of weeks until I got back on my feet.

Another thing I have to confess is that I hate applying more than I hated that job. I just hated the dressing up and looking pretty to go out and get rejected by various managers just because you don't have the specific experience. And looking like a fool when the manager comes up to you after finishing some important task and tells you that they aren't hiring at the moment, while the other employees look at you with pity in the background. I just really don't like applying, so I was doubly afraid to let go of that job. But in the end, the decision was made for me when I got laid off because I wasn't doing well (no doubt she gossiped to the owner about me just as she gossiped to me about him).

And I'm better for it. My colour came back, and I was... happier, even though I was completely broke and in debt.

God, I made this post into one long sob session, didn't I? I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be so... melancholy. I just wanted to talk about how bad it was before talking about the good. Just to put it all in perspective.

So, yeah. Thank god that's done and over with. Now I can just put that horrible job behind me. I mean, I did learn some things, so I guess I can't say it was all bad, but... it just wasn't a good fit.

There are still moments when I have flashbacks and I think it was all me—that something's wrong with me and I'm really that stupid and slow and just not good enough, but... I know better. I know myself and my capabilities, and I know I'm better than that. Even though sometimes my heart doesn't believe it, my brain always does, thank god.

And this should be a lesson for everyone out there. Don't let anyone put you down, because you are better than that. No matter what.

(Lol, now I sound like one of those feel-good ads that people roll their eyes at, don't I?) The dog days are over people!

Wherein Our Heroine Gets In Over Her Head

You know, over the past few months, one thing I've noticed about myself is that I have quite a passion for self-destruction. No matter how many times I'm forgiven, how many chances I've been given, I will inevitably screw it up in the end. And not accidentally. Oh no, that would absolve me of at least part of the blame (according to my twisted mind). No, these mistakes are quite deliberate. So can they actually be called mistakes? Ah, well, it doesn't really matter in the long run. What matters is that I've screwed up my life. Again.
It seems that I'm just not happy unless I'm avoiding something so important that it just becomes worse for me in the end, and jeopardizes my future. I wonder if I would be happier if I were more ordinary, and actually able to do hard work without the itch building beneath the surface, until I need to avoid it, just this once so the itch'll go away, at least for a little bit. And then it starts again, and again, the time intervals in between becoming shorter and shorter. Or else I start resenting it, more and more, until I hate the sight of it, and dread it the day before. And therein lies my inability to commit to anything. It's the same with people. I can't see the same people, day after day, until I start feeling suffocated, and there's this huge need to just leave and avoid. At least until the feeling starts going away after a while.
Is it just that I'm spoiled, and lazy? Probably. Undoubtedly. After all, I was raised in the western world, part of the generation of when the internet first came out, and was complete chaos. There were no restrictions, no firewalls, no copyrights, no rules. People could do anything, say anything. Perhaps that's why my generation is more wary and critical of the media than any other before us. For parents, it was doubly hard, as anything they tried to avoid telling their child, he/she could simply learn it over the internet. And it gave them the ability to refute their parent's arguments and traditional viewpoints on many subjects. I doubt any other generation will have as much freedom over the internet as ours ever had. Soon, chaos has to become order, and it's happening now, just two decades later, little by little.
Although, to have a passion for self-destruction, I must actually be passionate about it in the first place. But I'm just apathetic about everything. I really can't bring myself to care, about anything. I decide to take the easy route in the present, which actually makes it harder for me in the future.
I try, I guess. I mean, I have more responsibilities now. I have a job, and once I got a job, I was expected to pay for everything (save groceries and rent) myself. I was expected to now have the money to take care of myself (pay for my braces, just as my brother did when he got a job, buy my laptop, facial creams, etc.), all the while keeping up with nightschool.
But, instead, I got laid off. But I'm not sad over that, really. In fact, I was incredibly miserable in that job. It was simply too far and too much work, all for minimum wage. But I settled. And that's what you get when you take the easy route and settle. You become miserable and end up working too hard for minimum benefits. But a job like that takes a toll on you. And you start to wonder if it isn't just yourself. If you're really just that stupid, that you just can't get anything right. And even me, who really couldn't care less, was starting to feel inferior.
But no matter. It's done and over with, and if it happens again, I'll just quit and find another job that's easier to deal with. After all, it's just a job, not a career. I don't need to be thinking about what I need to do during my time off. That's not a job.
But my education's suffering now as well, through no fault other than mine. Nightschool is not as lax in attendance as day school is, and, in the beginning, I thought that would be a good thing. The "skip more than three days and you're out" rule would help curb my skipping habit, I thought.
Well, apparently not. This is the fifth day I've skipped my physics class. Before, I was hovering just over the edge, with 3 days absent. Then came this week, which I skipped two days in a row. I have no idea how my teacher will receive me, and... I just couldn't really care.
So here I am, with no job, in debt (oh, did I forget to mention my liberal use of my credit card, especially when I got laid off?), and possibly kicked out of school.
I guess I can fix it. With a doctor's note, and applying for a new job. That is, if I actually care enough to fix it.

Weird Shit Part 3 + Hot Teachers

Okay, so Jade and I decided to do a double post about the same topic (to compare writing styles and shit). We discussed how she's a far better blogger than I could ever be, simply because I suck at description. I am very literal in my writing, so I can't write analogies for shit. It's probably because of my math/physics background. And also because, although I read a lot, I don't write that much, and description is just fucking difficult. I mean, how many times can one describe how green the fucking grass is?

Anyway, Last night, we were doing our usual thing, staying out late at a restaurant and just talking (cause we're I'm not legally old enough to go clubbing yet). But I love our late-night talks, that are usually about everything and nothing. None of us can wake up early enough to actually *gasp* meet at a respectable time, like, say around 4 in the afternoon, so, instead we wake up at that time, and meet around 9 or 10. Thank God Pizza Pizza's open until 2am.
Anyway, so while we were snarfing down our halves of the X-large pizza (we're teenagers—we get hungry) and talking about life in general, these guys walk in. Queen of the oblivious that I am, I don't even notice one of the guys talking to us until Jade starts clearing her throat and pointing behind me, repeatedly saying my name.
So I turn around and here is this guy giving us this full-on leer. Like seriously? Don't you have somewhere else to be? And then he starts talking. I can't really remember what he said (I have a horrible memory, especially about things I don't like or find interesting—it's as if my brain deliberately tries to block it out), but I think it was something like, "Yo, beautiful girls, nigga. What you doin' here, just chill?" And I was just thinking, what the fuck was he saying?
One other guy tried to talk to us as well, while the other two (who looked a little more sober) just turned red with embarrassment for their friend. But he gave up eventually as well.
But the initial guy just wouldn't let go. He kept asking us where we were from, what university we were going to, and just kept talking about how he was studying Mechanical Engineering at York. Engineering? This idiot? Well, I can believe he got in, but I won't believe that he's actually passing, or even showing up to class. I asked him about how he was going to pay off the tuition if he failed. And he said he didn't have to, because it was a loan. Uh, correct my understanding, but doesn't having a loan mean you have to pay it off? And he also kept talking about his bling. Yes, his bling. "Dis is my bling, nigga!" He would say, pointing to this really tacky and ostentatious gold ring and necklace that he was wearing.
And it went on like that for the entire night (there was this pause though, when they went out to smoke more weed). The cashier at the Pizza Pizza was really annoyed by their noisiness, and looked at us with pity for having to talk to the loser. I was honestly so annoyed that I eventually gave monosyllabic answers and Jade was left having to deal with him. He had this really heavy african accent, crooked yellow teeth, hair covering his eyes, and just overall looked like a hobo. And he was hitting on us.
Why me? Why can't some hot, articulate, intelligent guy actually hit on us? Why does it have to be these losers? Now I understand why the pretty girls in some movies are bitches. It really gets annoying when you have to deal with this type of shit all the time.
And, literally, it happens all the time. Maybe it's because of the time we go out? Like, another time at another Pizza Pizza, we were sitting there, talking and laughing, and this guy came up to us and said, "I don't mean to sound creepy, but I just wanted to let you know that my friend thinks you're very beautiful." He was pretty nice, but it was still creepy, since it was around 2am, so when they offered us a ride home when we were freezing our asses off at the bus stop, we (well, Jade, really, since I've never minded car rides with strangers—even though my friends do, for some reason) had to refuse. Now, thinking about last night, I would definitely prefer those guys to the drunk pothead that interrupted our conversation and just wouldn't leave. And then, another time, when we were walking randomly and talking, these guys felt the need to pull over, and ask where we were from. I'm sorry, but what gives you the right to talk to me? Especially when you look like you're friggin' forty years old?
I think I come off a little cold, because they always end up talking to Jade in the end, who has to politely give them the brush off.
I mean, I wouldn't mind guys hitting on me, if they were actually hot, and possessed some sort of intelligent personality. But nooo, it has to either be hobos, or guys who look like they're old enough to be my father.

Okay, rant over. I'm done with that shit, and I don't want to have to think about it again.

Anyway, night school started for me, so now I'm incredibly busy four days a week. I have to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6am to get to work (since it takes two hours to get there), finish at 2pm, and go straight to the area where my nightschool is, so I have two hours to spare in which I do my homework (well, really, I just waste time, but I'll get into the habit of doing it... eventually), and then go straight to class, which starts at 6:30, and ends at 9:30. So I come home around ten, play around on the computer for like thirty minutes, take off my makeup, and then drop dead on my bed. And that's my schedule from Monday to Thursday.
I really fucking hate Mondays now.
But I just have to survive until June, then I'm done with nightschool, and I'm quitting that job, and working for ♪ Wonderland ♪. Oh yeah, it's going to be awesome.
But, yeah, I just started nightschool, and, let me tell you, my Calculus and Vectors teacher is grade-A hot. I think he's a university student, because he looks really young, but ohmygawd, I just couldn't stop staring at him. And I seriously don't know what's wrong with me, because this infatuation feeling is really getting annoying. I'm definitely going to ace all my tests and do my homework—just so he notices me. LOL, and if that's not creepy, I don't know what is. I feel so bipolar whenever I'm in that class. I think the combination of teenage hormones and still being a fricking virgin (lemme tell you, we have slim pickings) is finally getting to me. The saying that no one is hornier than a virgin is proving to be true.
And on another note, all my nightschool teachers are actually competent. They're not math teachers who have to teach physics (I've had a teacher like that before, and he just copied the textbook for everything—because no matter what anyone says, physics is a lot harder and different than math), or Phys-Ed teachers that have to teach bio (easiest marks evaar).
That means I'm either going to fail miserably, or, God forbid, actually learn something, and have to do my homework. Man, I wish June would just come already.

Oh Shite

I'm starting night school Calculus and night school Physics in February. And I still haven't finished my Independent online course.

I am so screwed.

So my schedule from February to June will be:

1. Get up at 6,
2. Go to work,
3. Finish at 2,
4. Go straight to my night school location,
5. Finish the homework in the two hours I have to spare,
6. Go to night school,
7. Finish at 10 pm,
8. Go home and sleep.
9. Rinse and repeat.

And, the funny thing is, I have Fridays and the weekend off for both work and night school. So four out of seven days a week, it'll be really hectic. And the three rest days will need to be used for my Independent learning course.
I'll either have an excellent established work ethic in June, or I'll crash and burn. And, considering my work history, I don't want to think about which is more likely.

But, hey, if I somehow manage to do well this semester, I'll probably be accepted at Waterloo for Chemical Engineering. And then I'll be able to move and live on campus, and party like crazy. While studying, of course.

On another topic, my birthday (my real one, not my legal one) is coming up soon. Yeah, you can tell from all the Valentine's Day displays shops and restaurants are putting up.
I'm so angry. I'll be nineteen in age, but not legally, so I still won't be able to go clubbing until November! I asked my mom if her relatives in our home country can send my real birth certificate here, but apparently everyone over there is just in it for themselves, and they don't do favours for nothing. The only thing I can do now is get a good fake ID, because there's no way in hell that I'm waiting another seven months until I'm able to go out, drink alcohol legally, and have fun with my friends (all the while being safe, of course).

So all I need to do is finish my Independent Learning course as soon as possible, get at least 90% on all my night school courses, not get fired from my day job, and figure out a way to get the most legit-looking fake ID. Easy-peasy.

Interviews Are Bullshit

The title says it all. Seriously.

Okay, so what happened was that about two weeks ago, I was applying for jobs on Kijiji (the fastest online method—at least you're not waiting two weeks wondering if they're going to call you), and I got a call right away after I applied to this food service ad (since I have experience from wonderland). So I answered and went to the interview the day after.
Honestly, I just bullshitted the entire thing. The manager was like, "So tell me about yourself." And I just said, "Well, I love to cook bullshit and experiment, and talking to people bullshit." And that's how the entire interview went. It was seriously so easy and I got the job right afterwords.
So that's the lesson for today, folks. Just exaggerate a bit (don't outright lie about your experience) while staying relevant to the position, and you'll get hired.
And, honestly, having a job is like the best thing EVAAARR. Well, not the actual job part of it, but the payday. I recently got around $200 for last week's work (yeah, I get paid weekly—isn't that awesome?), and I bought a metropass for next month. My very own first metropass! Finally, I don't have to borrow my brother's metropass, or ask my mom for tokens again! I also went out to an amazing restaurant that was cheap as shit, had a great atmosphere, was open 24 hours, and they filled the plate like crazy. Thank you, dine.to, for the recommendation. Then the next day, I just went to La Senza for their clearance sale and got some new bras. Man, I LOVE not having to rely on my mom to give me money, or go out shopping with her.
The independance, and confidence a job can give you is just awesome. Before working at Wonderland, I really wouldn't have been able to go up to a complete stranger and start up a conversation. But now I can, and it's really easy. I can now understand why most employers are hesitant to hire someone who's never had a job before, even if they're really qualified for it with volunteer experience and all that jazz.
The job part, though, that's a whole different topic. I've only been working for around two weeks (9-2, four days a week), so I'm still getting the hang of everything. And it's seriously too much work for minimum wage. They expect me to be a waitress, kitchen helper, cook helper, and cashier, all at once. The only other person there other than the manager (who usually never even shows up) is the cook, and I have to listen to her blather on and on about how she was doing it all herself before I came, and how I really should step up my game. Seriously? I'm doing the best I can, for minimum wage, so you can shove it.
Whatever. I don't care. I'm leaving in June (around the same time she is, actually—she's taking culinary night school and is going to work in a real restaurant soon), and working for Wonderland full-time in the summer. I hear they give you hours like crazy, and it's really easy. There's only three menu items in each booth that you need to serve. And everyone who works there is really young, since it's a seasonal job. So everyone's around my age (my supervisor's actually really hot, and he's sooo nice).
I can't wait to go back to Wonderland, and leave this crappy cafeteria. And then, after Wonderland, I think I'll move up and become a waitress. I don't know why people think being a waitress is like earning minimum wage. I would love to be one. I could meet hot guys, and be able to make so many tips, it'll be awesome.

Birthdays

Happy fake birthday to me!
My parents were immigrants, so they thought that it was a great idea to fake a birth certificate to make us a few months younger than we were (apparently, in their country, it's the younger people who get the better jobs). So, today, I'm legally 18. Even though I've been 18 since February 14. God, I seriously need to get my real birth certificate delivered here.
Yeah, I'm being bombarded with facebook messages of every "friend-of-a-friend" wishing me a happy birthday.
Unfortunately, I'm not getting an 18th birthday party. Isn't that just sad? For my real birthday, in February, it was because there was no time or money for a cake and present, let alone a party. My 17th birthday present was my party. Well, parties are expensive, so I can't blame anyone. I think I'm just going on a self-pity rampage today.
To think, that since I actually got a job (a temporary one, though, that ended in October) I could pay for a party myself. But no, I got bedbugs. And now I can't invite anyone over for at least three months after pest control comes over and exterminates the fuckers. Not to mention I have to vacuum and steam my clothes, bedsheets, and mattress everyday now (well, I actually do it once a week, but I'm the lazy one in the family).
Sigh. That's my rant for today.

Anyway, how about you, nonexistent reader? Read any good books lately? Please, please tell me good books to read. I'm bored out of my fucking mind here. I just dropped out of high school (not a big deal since I already graduated and was just repeating a year for marks) and now I'm stuck. At. Home. All. Day. With my family. I feel like tearing my hair out and running for the hills. Instead of getting a birthday present, I'm more likely to be kicked out if I don't have a full-time job two weeks from now, paying for my cell phone plan, and enrolled in an independent course to upgrade my pathetic marks. The latter isn't a problem. The first two are, since no one's fucking hiring! It's all part-time and seasonal temporary bullshit. I think I'm going to have to go for McDonald's. At least they'll give me hours. And I won't have to stay at home with my family. You have no idea how much of a plus that is. Just when I think living with them isn't so bad, I realize that I haven't actually been living with them, since their work schedules were so opposite my school schedule, we barely saw each other (except, of course, for my sister--but we ignored each other whenever we could). But now, I just want to fucking get out. God, I hope that when I get hired, my work schedule will be opposite theirs, 'cause I really don't want to see their faces when I come home from work.
And that's family for you.

I can't believe I'm saying it...

... but I miss school.
Well, technically not really school, but lunch. Hanging out with my friends everyday—and I took it for granted.
I don't know what's bothering me this past week. I've survived summers before with barely seeing my friends. But now I'm just like... pining, or something. I don't know. It's just very embarrassing. I'm known for liking my alone-time, and here I am, wishing for company.
I think part of the reason is that I'm bored—and that I'm just not up-to-date on what's going on with everyone. I'm curious, and it feels weird to be out of the loop.
I know what you're thinking: Just pick up the phone and call. But what if they're busy or something? I can't just call. I need a reason—don't I? I'm very introverted that way—I usually don't like to start a conversation, but I'll join in something that's already started.
And my usual habit of avoiding and ignoring anything that makes me uncomfortable isn't working... again. It usually works so well, though. Usually, I just avoid and ignore until I deliberately forget about it—and then I'm fine. It didn't really work all that well in school, but, with emotions? Hell, yeah—it worked like a boss. :D

Admittedly, I've become a little less reserved than I used to be (once I learned that being quiet wouldn't get me anywhere)—but it was really difficult. Like having to present an assignment, and butterflies are dancing in your stomach—because you know that if you fuck up even a little bit, you're screwed. Having to go up to people and talk to them isn't my forte. In fact, I'd prefer not doing it at all. But where would that get me? In this society, it's all about connections and making a good first impression.

This leads me to my next point: An upcoming party. A former (WAY former) friend of mine invited me and about 60 other people to her 18th beach birthday bash. When I first saw the facebook invite, I was just like, what do I do? Let me give you some background info.
We were tight—like extremely tight—best friends in elementary school for six years (all the way from grade one to grade six).
I'll just call her S. She was my best friend and I was hers. We exchanged bracelets and necklaces and all that shit. The thing was, I didn't really like her all that much. But she always hung out with me, so I was like, why not? It's not like I had anyone else (I was pretty much a loner back then). There were a ton of things she said that I disagreed with, but she was fun to hang out with.
And then, in grade three, another girl came along (I'll call her M), and we became a trio. Well, it was more like me stuck in the middle of those two (who didn't really talk to each other in the beginning—but they got closer). I'm not saying I was popular. It was just basic school drama. Admittedly, I like M a lot better than S. But, two years later, M moved away, and S and I became close again.
After elementary school, though, we separated into different middle schools, and I deliberately began to slowly shut all ties with her (horrible, I know, but, at the time, I rationalized it away by thinking that part of my life was over now—and also avoiding and ignoring, as usual).
Anyway, M is also coming to the beach party, so I'm just like wondering how awkward it can get. Apparently, they still talk to each other, while I haven't talked to either of them in years.

But, you know what, I need to man up and start to face things, and this is the perfect time to do it (not to mention that it's a beach party). I'm just glad some of my current friends are coming, too. Otherwise it would probably alternate with me awkwardly trying to talk to M and S, or awkwardly trying to talk to a bunch of strangers.

God help me.

On the Bright Side...

On the bright side, Ghost Story is coming out soon! :D I can't wait!!
I feel much more cheerful now that I've vented everything.

And... now I'm going to try to sleep.
G'night, folks! :D

Why Would You DO THAT???

In my weary research for a good new urban fantasy series to read, I recently found one that was actually written pretty well. The protagonist wasn't a complete idiot, bumbling into things until the powerful alpha male had to come and rescue her all the time (which I had to torture myself into reading in my search for a good urban fantasy series)—although it was a bit cliché—newly turned vampire and the master of the house of vamps, incidentally also her sire. Then again, which paranormal series doesn't at least have a cliché or two? The trick, with good authors, is in making that cliché interesting enough to readers who have already read it.

Called the Chicagoland Vampires, it was a bit slow in the mystery department as the main protagonist also dealt with her newly changing life, and the side characters that involved themselves into her life. I really loved how Chloe Neill wrote them—they had dimension, depth, and their own interesting little side-stories (that were sometimes, to me, more interesting than the protagonist's—but that's just because I'm mainly a matchmaker at heart).

Predictably, I consumed the entire five books that were in the series (as of present) within a span of three days. Sometimes, when a series gets really interesting, I'm unable to do anything—eat, sleep, or work—until I finish it. Yes, I have an addictive personality. Yes, I'm working on fixing it. But I digress. This was one of the few series that actually consumed me so. And, God, it's been such a long time since I've found an interesting series that didn't become too much of the same thing (the only others I've found to be so are the Dresden Files, Kate Daniels, Cassandra Palmer and Dorina Bhasarab, Night Huntress, the Mercedes Thompson and Alpha & Omega series, the Fever series, and—usually, as I'm not much of a fan of Blaze of Memory—Psy/Changeling and Guild Hunter). Sherrilyn Kenyon disappointed me. Gena Showalter disappointed me. Jacquelyn Frank started to bore me. Christine Feehan—God, I don't even want to talk about her. I liked the Drake sisters... until it got progressively worse with each book. I even gave the Carpathians a chance. But the rape scene in one book was too much for me. I could've handled it if the antagonist, or the villain had done it. But it was the hero. Just because he couldn't help himself. The fact that she was condoning rape... No. Just no.
And... I've gotten off-track again. I seem to do that a lot when I rant.

Anyway, while reading this series, I was really rooting for the canon couple. Sure they seemed to have the typical clichéd tension-ridden breakup-up-and-back-together-again cycle of a relationship, but, you know what, the protagonist actually had some serious concerns over the realtionship—which made it serious. It wasn't simply the fact that she was stubborn and refused to commit over a stupid reason (which is surprisingly common in many novels—of all genres).

Yesterday—well, tonight, actually—I had nearly reached the ending of the fifth book when a twist just stopped my mind. I kept going over the words again and again while my thoughts screamed out a verbal, "NOOoooooo!!!" I just... I'm in shock. All I'm thinking is, "WHY?" I mean, this was completely unexpected because you can't just... do that! It's, like, taboo for authors. And it's just so random. It's like going up to a complete stranger and punching him/her in the face. Yes, Chloe Neill has just metaphorically punched her readers in the face.

Now I'm frustrated and confused, just in time for my summer school test this morning. And I'll probably stay frustrated and confused (and, dammit, still slightly hopeful that what I read actually didn't happen) until November, which is when the next book in the series will come out.

I fucking hate cliffhangers.

Weird Shit Part 2

God, there are some really creepy weirdos out there.

But, you know what, I wanted to record these encounters for the sake of the hilarity, so here they are.

Just a few weeks ago, I was walking to Dollarama to pick up a few things, when this guy drove out of the gas station nearby, saw me, and called out, "Excuse me. Are you from [insert my home country]." I looked at him over my shoulder, and replied that I was. He looked like he was from the same place.
Then he got really creepy and asked for my name. I just looked at him, rolled my eyes, and walked away. Apparently, men from the country I lived in for less than three years of my life think it's alright to go up to a strange girl and ask for her personal info.
Honestly, how stupid do you think I am?

Then, the same day, I was walking in the outdoor mall near my school, when this guy wearing a turban walking the opposite way saw me, came up to me, and said, "You look troubled, sister," in a solemn tone.
I probably just looked at him with a "what the fuck?" expression.
And then he said something like, "You smile at the world, but not deep inside. You think of the many problems you have when you are unable to solve them. What is your name, sister?"
Stunned, I told him.
"Do not worry, Arlia. You have many burdens, but rejoice that you are here to worry for them." And then he nodded at me and walked away.
I think he also said a bunch of other stuff, but, for the life of me, I can't remember.
When I look back at this encounter, I laugh. It was just that weird.

But, anyway, that's it for now. One more encounter with dudes in cars and this weird, religious guy. Hm. Maybe it's the blue colors and jeans. Who knows?

Fun in the Rain

Oh! I almost forgot to mention the freak thunderstorm today.

It was freaking crazy! I remember I was on the first bus headed for home when the lady beside me started talking to me randomly about this predicted thunderstorm that was going to come during the evening.
Then, I left the first bus and headed to the second bus stop when the girl beside me stooped and put her head above her hands. I personally thought she was going crazy until I saw what she was looking at: The sky. And it was fucking scary.
There was this huge, angry, grey cloud moving really fast above us, as thunder started to roll, and I could actually see the lightning headed for us. It was freaking awesome.
Luckily, the bus came just a second later, and we all hurried in, just as it started to pour. Like crazy. The windshield wipers on the front windows were moving at a speed I had never seen before as people exited the bus on various stops, covering the rain above their heads with an occasional umbrella, or their hands, and running as if their life depended on it. A huge tree-branch sat in the middle of the road.
Then came the freaky part.
Actual hail--either that, or really, incredibly fierce rain--started pounding on the windows so hard that the bus driver actually had to stop for a while, unable to see anything despite the windshield wipers working as hard as they could to clear the rain. And the lighting. Man, the lightning was something to see! I was just glad I was safe inside the bus while the wind and the rain caused a huge wreck of the trees on the way, and thunder roared in the sky.
Eventually, it calmed down enough that the bus driver was able to get us moving again, despite it still raining pretty heavily. I got off at my stop, and promptly ran home, sighting the lightning near the skies above me. There were trees on the way, but I avoided as much as I could. Then I got out the video camera and recorded the after-effects. My sister's room was flooded due to a leak in her window, but, by the time I came home, she had cleaned most of it up.
But, man, that storm was awesome. Reminded me of the time me and my friends got caught in a storm and, instead of going to each of our respective homes after a tiring shopping trip, we went to the closest place we could--our friend's home. I remember running to her condo in slippery wet platform sandals, while lightning flashed behind us.
Sigh. That was fun.
You gotta love the crazy moments. :D

Apathetic...

Oh, God, I've never really been good at these blog entries. You see my past posts, and the thing that pops up the most is "school," one of the most boring topics ever.

Anyway, I honestly don't know why I'm writing this. I've been feeling very... self-destructive lately--and I don't know why. I think stress causes my avoidance habits to rise, ever-increasing, which just makes it worse--until I just stop caring as a safety mechanism.
I've even been avoiding my friends... and I don't know why.
Before, hanging out with them was fun, and I loved the interaction, but now sometimes it's just a chore. There are times when that old feeling of fun and just belonging is back--such as today, at lunch. But I guess my memory is more inclined to remember the other times, when I just felt completely left out, unable to understand the topic what they were talking about, which happens a lot, considering the fact that I wasn't raised with Western culture. I only started immersing myself into it during the late elementary years, despite the fact that I lived in Canada for all of my life (minus three years).
I don't know why I feel like this--I know there will always be topics with which I have no familiarity with, and that my friends probably will.
I'm pretty sure this feeling will pass. Besides, it's only during actual lunch that it happens, which is strange, considering I hang out with my friends after lunch, as well, sometimes. For example, I went to a pool party last Friday and I had a great time--but not so much during Friday lunch. Maybe it's the school atmosphere that's getting to me.
Besides, unlike what my sister said, I don't think we're too polite and frigid with each other (all the while whispering behind each others' backs). We're just... not all that open. I mean, there are things I know I would never tell them (which is becoming less and less), and there are things I know I would never tell my family (but would probably tell my friends). Everyone has personal barriers, and I think we all respect that--nothing more, nothing less. I know when my friends shift the conversation away (sometimes very subtly--I don't know how they do it--do they even notice that they do it?) from something that's very personal--but I respect it, because I know they're not ready to reveal such things--may never be ready to.
It's probably just guilt that's driving me to avoid. Word of advice: Don't take a class with all your friends unless you're willing to come to that class everyday--or else you'll suffer a serious guilt trip, as well as some regret.

And, God, I don't want to mention all the assignments I have piling up on me that are due tomorrow. And one of them is a group assignment, which means I can't just avoid and ignore (my usual tactic--it hasn't been working all that well lately).
Guess I better go back to work now.